


Chalk and Cheese, Revisited

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Chalk, Cheese, Runaway Brides and other Nonsense [1]
Category: Excalibur (Comic), X-Men
Genre: F/M, Postscript, Spoilers, drunkfic, x-men gold #30
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 10:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: After the events of X-Men Gold #30, Pete Wisdom gets called in to help with some damage control.





	Chalk and Cheese, Revisited

“You can see the problem.” 

Pete Wisdom squints at Brian Braddock. Aggravated. Confused. Over-tired. If it’s a synonym for “pissy," Pete’s feeling it. 

He’s been dragged to Scotland; to that old pub they all used to go to when they were young and stupid and Pete thought that maybe he could be an X-whatever and maybe even be happy, too. 

Didn’t pan out. Wasn’t in the cards, as that bloody swamp rat Lebeau would say.

Ugh. 

X-People.

Across the bar is his ex-girlfriend. She’s drinking. Heavily. A lot. And wearing a wedding dress. 

Pete shakes his head. “Braddock. Y’great big bastard, what am I even doing here?” 

The great big bastard sighs heavily. “I keep trying to get her to leave, and she won’t.” 

“So?” 

Braddock frowns deeply. “So? What do you mean so? The girl will drink herself to death!” 

“No, she won’t,” Pete snaps. “She learned to drink from me she’ll be-” 

Braddock waits.

“Oh.” 

“You see the problem now?” 

Pete nods. “She learned to drink from me.” 

Braddock sighs heavily. “I tried to pick her up, but she just phased.” 

“You’re lucky that’s all she did,” Pete mutters. “She knows Krav Maga, remember?” 

“She wouldn’t hurt me.” 

“She’s drunk,” Pete reminds him. “When she’s happy drunk, she does the cancan on tables. When she’s angry-drunk she chokes people out. Fun sometimes. Mostly though…” he shakes his head. “What’d you call me for?” 

“Well…” 

“Why not Meggan? Or Wagner? Rahne, maybe? What about that ginger? Rachel? The...blonde Russian Hellwitch or the Weather Witch, even. What about the bloody great Russian?” 

Braddock looks awkward. 

Pete looks from him, to Kitty and then back at the big blond bastard. “Oh.” 

“You can see the problem.” 

“You keep saying that,” Pete complains.

“I just thought maybe you could talk to her,” Braddock says. “When was the last time you two talked?” 

Pete looks up, thoughtful. “two years ago…I think we ran into each other in Cardiff…we had sex. We didn’t talk much.” 

Braddock wrinkles his nose. 

“What?! We have a history! Sex happens.” 

Braddock closes his eyes. “I’m leaving.” 

“Oi. That’s my line, mate. You’re not leaving me here with her when she’s drunk and jilted.” 

“She isn’t the jilted one, Pete,” Braddock says wearily. “She left Piotr at the alter.” 

Pete blinks. “She-” he looks at Kitty again and then back at Braddock. “You’re not serious.” 

“I am.” 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” 

“You know,” Kitty calls, her words slurred. “You guys are not discreet. Undiscreet. Wisdom, for a guy who’s supposed to be a spy, you are the worst at stealthy.” 

“Hullo, Pryde.” 

She nods and waves the bottle she’s been drinking from. “Fancy a drink?” 

“…No?” Pete tries. 

Kitty snorts. “You’re funny. I always thought you were funny.” She smiles at Brian. “Reme’mer when Pete put on Moira’s swim cap and pretended to be Professor X? Right after Piotr nearly beat him to death? So funny.” She smiles, but Pete sees some unshed tears there. 

He sighs heavily and walks over. “Go home, Braddock. I’ve got this.” 

“Call if things go south…er,” Braddock says, before leaving. 

Pete watches him go and then turns to Kitty. “Right. I know what’s happened.” 

“You do?” Kitty asks,  eyebrows raised. 

“Mhm,” he nods. “You didn’t think things through and then when you realized you hadn’t thought things through you over-thought, freaked out and ran away.” 

Kitty says nothing. She takes a swig from the bottle she’s holding. 

Pete nods.

“I can’t marry Piotr,” Kitty mutters, sitting back and blowing out a breath. She shakes her head. “I tried to forget all the stupid crap that happened between us. I thought I could just let all that stuff go.” 

“Yeah, but relationships are built on memory,” Pete says. “And if all you can seem to hold onto are the bad ones…s’a problem.” 

She rolls her eyes and shoves at his face. “What do you know?” 

“Plenty,” Pete grins. 

Kitty gazes at him, obviously drunk, but affectionately. “Yeah. I guess you do. You always kinda did.” 

“I have my moments.” 

“We had good moments.” 

Pete tries for a grin. “Don’t get soppy on me now, Pryde.” 

“I should never have let you leave,” she tells him, pointing the bottle at him. “I shoulda swam after you when you left Muir.” 

Pete has to grin. She’s definitely drunk. “Ooh, we’re a little late for that, luv.” 

Kitty blows out a breath. “I made a mess!” 

“Yep,” Pete nods. “Happens sometimes. Life an’ all.” 

“What if I just keep making messes?” Kitty asks, teetering toward him. 

“More to clean up I su-” 

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before she’s kissing him. It’s firm and insistent and trying to prove something. Pete’s not sure what. 

He pulls away, bumping his nose against hers a little. “I have an idea.” 

“So do I,” she says, leaning in again, but he stops her gently, taking her shoulders. 

“I have a better idea.” 

***** 

They wind up back at his flat, and thank god he had a cleaning lady in a day ago. Things are not total shit.

Kitty giggles from her spot curled up on his couch as they watch ‘Alien.’ 

“It’s like the Brood,” she says, pointing, obviously still drunk. “But less scary.” 

Pete grins a little, texting Braddock.  _“At my place. Watching a film. Will put her to bed shortly.”_

The text back is predictable. “ _Without you, Wisdom.”_

_“I may be a bastard, but I’m not fuckin’ evil. Of course without me. I’m taking the sofa.”  
_

He gets no response, and when he looks over, Kitty is dozing, snoring softly. 

Pete sighs and shakes his head, getting up and scooping her into his arms to put her to bed.

***** 

He wakes up in the morning to the sounds and smells of bacon, and when he sits up on the couch and squints into the small kitchen, he finds Kitty in one of his shirts, standing over the stoke. 

“Jews are allowed to eat bacon now?” he smirks.

“Don’t tease me,” she says, her voice a little hoarse after a night of drinking. “I’m trying to do something nice for your sorry ass.” 

“Ah, you like my arse.” 

He knows she’s grinning, even though she’s not facing him. 

“Seriously,” she says, turning to him finally. “Thanks for last night.” 

“Well, I always did like Meggan’s philosophy: there’s nothing a Sigourney Weaver film won’t cure.” 

Kitty sighs softly and slumps against the counter, turning off the stove. “You were right last night, you know. I  didn’t think things with Piotr through. And then when I did…I realized it wasn’t what I wanted. I freaked out. I ran. We talked. I…I told him that I love him, but I couldn’t marry him…” 

“How did he take it?” Pete asks. “He didn't collapse anybody’s lung, did he?” 

“No,” Kitty says, walking over and leaning on the couch. “He was sad, but he accepted it.” 

“That’s something, I suppose,” Pete nods, laying back, looking up at her. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you last night,” she goes on. “I was drunk and-” 

He shakes his head. “Nah. You never have to apologize for that.” He grins. “Even when you’re shitfaced, you’re a decent snog, Pryde.” 

Kitty rolls her eyes. “God I hate you. Why did Brian even call you?” 

“Cause he knew you’d listen to me,” Pete says, sitting up. “I don’t know why you listen to me, but you do.” 

“Probably for the same reason I kissed you,” she says. She reaches out and strokes his hair hesitantly. “Get up. Food.” 

He watches her step away and shakes his head, a little thrown by the affection. “Right. Food.” 

“You do still eat, don’t you?” Kitty teases. “You’re not living on cigarettes and whiskey again, are you?” 

“I’ve switched to bourbon,” he tells her. “S’different.” 

“Come get your bacon.” 

“Right.” 


End file.
